


a birthday surprise, but not, like, sexy, but not NOT sexy, you feel me?

by Khismer



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Jealousy, Maid Cafe, but like addressed and resolved jealousy, the rest of the rfa + vanderwood makes an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khismer/pseuds/Khismer
Summary: It's Sun-hwa's birthday, the first special occasion since they started dating, and Saeran ispanicking.  He turns to the RFA members for help. Visiting her at work would be nice, right?





	a birthday surprise, but not, like, sexy, but not NOT sexy, you feel me?

It's Sun-hwa's birthday, the first special occasion since they started dating, and Saeran is  _ panicking.  _

When it's mentioned in the chatrooms --never instigated by her; it was Seven’s fiancée who mentioned it the first time, and the well-meaning members of the RFA seem to have taken it upon themselves to toss gift ideas around and inquire into the possibility of a party and generally try to ensure that her birthday is memorable, something that really shouldn't be surprising, given the nature of the organization -- Saeran is often lumped into these proposed plans. 

Sun-hwa waved away and the first suggestion that she has anything fancy planned, saying that she's probably just going to spend a quiet night in with Saeran, but their reactions to this seemed to suggest that Saeran shouldn't let this be, that he should be preparing an elaborate and romantic surprise for her, and Saeran has  _ no idea  _ what to do.

He's done some probing, asked a few leading questions, tried to subtly feel out her expectations, and still, he is frustratingly in the dark about what he should do. If he just asked her outright, he has a feeling she'd just laugh and say not to worry, but that's not what people are supposed to do for things like this, right? Shouldn't he just  _ know  _ what she wants, know what the perfect gift is, the perfect plan?

But he doesn't. 

He's sure if he asked her she'd say not to worry about it, but what if she  _ doesn't  _ think that? What if she expects something from him that he's not able to give her and he lets her down? He doesn't have  _ any  _ experience with situations like these, and the thought of disappointing her has been at the forefront of his worries for the past week. 

He’s had a few ideas, but nothing that he feels fully confident in, and the lingerie he'd ordered is scheduled to get here a few days too late for that to work as a gift, so he… outsources this. 

(Which is sort of a shame -- he thinks he'd have looked pretty damn fantastic in that lingerie.)

His brother, irritatingly, seems to pick up on his worries. 

Seven continues to visit when he's able, often when his fiancée is at work. After the chatrooms, Saeran’s worries rise anew, and Seven always seems eager to say something about it. Thankfully, he's remained quiet, though the longer this goes on, Seven begins to seem as if he's fit to burst with advice. 

Saeran pointedly avoids asking Seven about it, instead turning to Yoosung. 

Yoosung advises sweet little gestures, romantic but comfortable, things Saeran thinks Sun-hwa might appreciate, but his suggestions are tempered with, “ah, but I've never had a girlfriend, so… maybe that's not right?” and Saeran is left with more worries than when he started. 

“Maybe you should ask Zen?” Yoosung suggests at last. 

But Zen, while indisputably more experienced in these matters, falls on the more  _ ostentatious  _ side of things. Saeran has no doubt there is  _ someone  _ who would appreciate grand gestures of flowers and rose petals and tender words, but it's not Sun-hwa, and… he's not sure he has the confidence not to falter if he tried to give a heartfelt speech.

Zen runs a hand through his hair in consternation before finally suggesting that he speak with Jaehee, if he needs something a little more grounded, a little less… dramatic. 

“Advice that makes sense,” Saeran says, and Zen huffs, but nods readily, his respect for Jaehee clear.

Saeran manages to catch Jaehee at a good time -- busy, as she's been since she began the work necessary to realize her dreams for a café, but not so busy that she cannot talk, though he helps sweep up some lingering dust accumulated in the time since the building was last owned as he explains the dilemma to her. 

She gives her opinion when they break for coffee -- which is delicious, even if the place still needs a little work before it opens to the public. 

“You know, you  _ are  _ allowed to ask. There's nothing against that. In fact, many people appreciate the directness.” Saeran frowns, and she sets her coffee cup down after a sip. “But if you're set against it… you don't have to take extravagant measures for her, particularly if this makes either of you uncomfortable. Just spend time doing something she enjoys. I'm sure she'll appreciate your consideration, whatever you do.”

He nods. That's reassuring, though still requires some thought. 

Jaehee tilts her head. “...you know Seven is probably going to keep trying to talk to you about this until you hear him out.”

Saeran frowns again. “He's… persistent,” he mutters. 

She laughs softly. “He cares about you. But I wouldn't say I’d be eager for his advice either, in your situation,” she admits with sympathy, as well a measure of suppressed amusement. 

Still, he has some worries.

Jumin’s advice -- sought out hesitantly, and really, only to assuage his lingering doubts as he delays what seems like the  _ inevitable  _ advice from his brother -- is simple. “Ask her,” he says. 

“I don't… think I'm supposed to,” Saeran says. “I think I'm supposed to just… figure it out.”

Jumin raises a well-groomed eyebrow. “It would be simpler to just ask, but if you're meant to do this alone, then I suppose… rely on your observations of her thus far. Trust that you know her.”

He  _ doesn't _ trust that, not enough to keep himself from worrying that he's going to screw this up, but he nods anyway. 

Saeran even asks  _ Vanderwood  _ before his brother -- although that's not hard, seeing as Vanderwood is settling into the role of assistant to the C&R heir, and is there when Saeran drops by.

“Give her a taser,” they deadpan. “I don't want to give mine up all the time just because no one else plans well enough.”

“...I think she already has one,” Saeran tells them. 

They give him a satisfied nod but no other suggestions, just ask, “then have you asked Jaehee?” Saeran nods, and they wave a hand. “Why are you asking  _ him _ , then? Just listen to what she said.”

And she  _ has  _ given the best advice out of the bunch so far. 

He's reminded of the other part of her advice when Seven drops by with a new MMO to try out and, after checking his phone and wincing at another mention of the upcoming day, he sees Seven perk up in that particular way he's had lately. 

He can put it off no longer. 

“...alright,” says Saeran, suppressing a sigh as he sets down his controller. “So about Sun-hwa…”

Seven doesn't need to be told twice. 

He makes Saeran reiterate the particulars of the situation, which he does, begrudgingly, as Seven listens with rapt attention, nodding often. 

By the end of it, his advice is actually surprisingly simple. He slings an arm over Saeran’s shoulders and confidently remarks, “Just be yourself!” Saeran snorts, but Seven continues in earnest. “No, really! She loves you, she'll appreciate whatever you do. Just spend time with her, if you don't know what else to do!”

It's -- not too bad, all considered. Saeran's words of thanks are actually... sincere, which he wouldn't have guessed going into that. 

Spend time with her. Do something she’d like to do.

And he can think of something that might fit that advice.

She’s been asking him about visiting her at work for some time now -- not constantly, just extends an invitation every once in a while, and she never pushes, never seems hurt when he expresses disinterest. 

And maybe he shouldn't have been so certain that e wouldn't be interested in visiting, but it's just -- if he goes, there’s no guarantee that she’d even be able to talk to him, so what’s the point?

She’d teasingly asked if he didn’t miss her when she was at work, and he  _ does _ , but seeing her and  _ not _ being able talk would just make it worse. He’d rather just wait until she’s home and he can have her all to himself.

So, with a promise to let her know if he ever changed his mind so that she could make sure he’d get a spot in her section, she’d let the matter be. 

But now… it's her  _ birthday.  _ If there was ever a time to reconsider his aversion to the idea, it's now, and this is how Saeran finds himself, for the first time, walking up to the place Sun-hwa has worked at for the past two years, and that he has never seen. 

He steels himself and draws in a slow breath, and opens the doors. 

“Welcome home master~!”

He flinches as he's greeted, trying not to physically recoil at the attention. 

The woman who has spoken to him is decked out in a frilly maid uniform, and she smiles at him as he draws nearer to the podium, then gives him an expectant look. 

“For… one?” He says hesitantly. 

The hostess bows a little and gestures for him to follow. “Right this way, master. I'm glad you're home.” 

So he lets her lead him to an empty table, where she plucks a menu -- heart-shaped -- from the center and hands it to him. 

“Now, Mi-na will be attending you today, please don't hesitate to ask anything you need of her, and if you have any questions, I can--”

“Ha-neul!”

And there is Sun-hwa, quickly approaching them. 

He's never seen her wearing her maid uniform in person, just in pictures, and most of those were group shots with her co-workers, promotional shots for the café’s website. It's frilly and pastel and matches her stockings as well as the little bow in her hair. 

...she looks cute. 

Sun-hwa comes to a stop beside Saeran, and the hostess pauses. “Jang-mi?” she questions. 

Sun-hwa inclines her head a little and says, “I can take him in my section.” Her eyes flick from Saeran to Ha-neul. “This is… Saeran.”

The term ‘boyfriend’ is carefully avoided, but by the way Ha-neul raises a brow, she gets the gist of it anyway. “You're sure you don't have too much to handle?”

Sun-hwa shakes her head. “I'll be fine.”

Ha-neul considers this, then nods. “This way, then.” She leads him to another table across the room as Sun-hwa follows close behind. “Jang-mi will attend to you,” she says, and then she's off, returning to the hostess stand. 

“Jang-mi?” Saeran questions when Ha-neul is no longer in earshot. 

Sun-hwa tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh… yeah, we all go by fake names here. Privacy, y’know? Prevents… incidents. But  _ you  _ can call me by my name, if you're quiet. Still, I can't believe you came!” She pats the sides of her dress to indicate the lack of pockets. “I haven't checked my phone in a while, I must've missed your message.”

He shakes his head. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Aww, how sweet.” She smiles at him, and some of his nervousness fades away. “Well, I've got two other tables, but they're both singles, and neither seem particularly demanding, so... I can't promise constant attention, but we've got some time. So! Let’s get you started. You haven't been to one of these before, right?” 

He shakes his head, and she slides the menu over, flipping it open to the first page. 

“Savory stuff is more towards the beginning, then less savory but still not desserts, and then our magnificent catalogue of cakes, parfaits, and ice creams.  Drinks are at the back, here, and we can do personalized coffees. Anything catch your eye?”

Some of the names, he recognizes, but not like this, not all…  _ cutesy _ . Are the recipes even going to be the same?

“I don't… know what to get.” He looks up at her beseechingly. 

“Hmm. Is this a quick visit, or…?”

He flushes a little, but shakes his head.  “...wanted to spend time with you.”

She beams. “I’d say start with something savory then, something filling. Eun-ji's working the kitchen today, so  _ everything's  _ good, but if you want something you know you'll like, maybe begin with omurice? You can get it with a cute little face drawn on it with ketchup.” She flips back to the first page, then rests her hand on the table. Her smallest finger overlaps with his just slightly, and from the warm look she gives him as he glances at her, that's entirely intentional. 

He hesitates again. “...is it okay that I’m having you do this on your birthday?”

“Of course!” She beams. “I'm glad you came. And I  _ do  _ think you'll like the menu -- especially the ice cream. I just don't want you gorging yourself on  _ only  _ that if you're going to be here for a while.”

He quirks a brow. “But what if I want to gorge myself on ice cream? Isn't that my choice to make, as your  _ master? _ ”

“Oh!” She gasps, a splays a hand over her chest. For a brief moment he thinks she's actually shocked at him for playing along, displeased even, but then she adopts a sorrowful tone and says, “I have been remiss in my duties, overstepping my bounds!” She bows her head remorsefully. “It is, of course, your decision to make; how could you ever forgive me, a lowly maid, for questioning you, my master?”

And then she lifts her head and there's a mischievous glint in her eye as she drops the dramatic voice. “…so you want the omurice or not?”

He pouts sullenly at this teasing, but nods. 

“Anything else?”

“...no, that's fine.”

“Great! I'll pass that along and it should be ready soon. Gotta do some lip service.” She glances behind her, then back to him and rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Back into the fray.” She pats his hand and then she's off. 

And now he's left to play the waiting game. He'd considered this before, of course, the ratio of how much time he'd get to spend with her versus just watching her from afar, but… well. Doesn't make this any less awkward. He feels… more watched than he'd like, and he shifts self-consciously in his seat. Maybe he should have worn something else, but she'd  _ said  _ the sweater was cute this morning before she left… 

He looks around the room again, taking in yet more ‘adorable’ imagery he'd missed before, and meets the eye of another maid -- waitress in a maid outfit -- and she smiles at him. He hunches his shoulders and locks his eyes onto the menu, staring as fixedly as it as he would if it contained all the secrets of the universe. At the very least, it solves the problem of where to look without feeling like as much of an idiot.

Oh, but there's ice cream. Fancy stuff, he'd assume, given the whole general ambiance of the place. What kinds?

He flips through the menu and spends several minutes contentedly absorbed in weighing his  options, delicious as they are -- and then he hears Sun-hwa giggle from across the room. 

It catches his attention immediately, and he raises his head to seek out the source. When he does, he freezes. 

Sun-hwa is seated at a man’s table, delicately stirring his coffee. 

After a moment, the man leans forward and murmurs something and she ducks her head and presses a hand to her cheek and giggles again. 

He can hear her speak from here, though faintly, and the voice she's using -- higher-pitched, saccharine and overly-obliging -- raises goosebumps along the back of his neck. She doesn't stay long, just a minute or two more, but it's enough that Saeran is left seething.

She's at work. This is her job. But he doesn't like how  _ familiar  _ the man was with her. What right does anyone have to do that? That’s  _ got  _ to be crossing some line.

He's frowning when Sun-hwa returns, bearing gifts. 

She sets the plate of omurice before him, as well as a cup and saucer, and as she does, says, “Now I know you didn't  _ ask  _ for coffee, but Eun-ji made it exceedingly sweet and I drew a little cat face in it for you so it's hand-made for you.  _ Maid- _ made, eh? Eh?” She then straightens and places her hands on her hips, eyes closing in satisfaction of both a job well done and a pun well-made, looking exceedingly pleased with herself. Her cheery mood deflates a little when this does not garner the reaction she expected. 

She cracks open an eye. “...not a winner?”

He tries to offer her a reassuring smile, but it soon droops. He drums his fingers on the saucer. “...why did you want me to come?”

“Mmm, thought it'd be nice to see you more often? Thought you'd like the menu?” She narrows her eyes and her voice grows conspiratorial. “Thought you'd think it was funny seeing me going so long without being able to cuss and generally just watching me make a fool out of myself?”

“...shit,” he mutters, lips quirking up though there's still a funny hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, “I should be taking advantage of that, huh?”

“Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't. Is that because of birthday goodwill, or should I be expecting some acerbic wit once you've settled into the place?”

“Hmm.” He hums a note, locking his eyes onto hers and leaning closer. “I guess you'll have to wait and see.”

“Oh?” She leans in as well, placing her hands on the table. “What mischief do you have in store for me?” He has the feeling that she's looking forward to it, whatever it is. 

But before anything more can be said, another waitress passes close behind and slows to place a hand at her side for a moment before continuing on her way. Sun-hwa shoots him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I think that's meant to tell me one of my tables needs something. Might be getting antsy.”

He nods to say he understands, and watches her make her way to another table that looks recently seated. A pair, this time. She chats with them briefly, but though she certainly seems  _ exuberant _ , the atmosphere from here reads as more… friendly. He’s talked himself down into relaxing right up until she brings out their drinks and the flirting seems to switch into overdrive.

Or -- well, he'd assume so, from the cutesy way she tilts her head, and the way the pair elbow each other as they watch her leave. 

He stabs his fork into the omurice and takes a sullen bite. Stupid customers. Stupid café. 

He breaks the head of one of the bears in half when he hears the man from the first table, the one she was giggling at earlier, speak. 

“Jang-mi, wait here with me a little longer -- I can't bear to see you go.” 

She inclines her head bashfully. “Ah, how can I refuse such a sweet request from my master?

Why is everyone so into her when she's -- not her? Why does she have to act so different here? 

...she's good at it. He can't even tell she's faking it. 

And what the hell is a ‘ _ cuteness spell _ ,’ anyway? If they want to ask someone to make sure their food looks cute, shouldn't they be asking the  _ chefs _ , not the waitress?

The next time she swings by his table, his displeasure must be clear on his face, because she frowns as she approaches, and slides into the booth seat next to him. 

She sets another cup of coffee next to the first, and when he gives it a curious look, she says, “...you're not eating much, and it's hitting that time where it starts to fill up in the hour before closing, so it's hard to find an excuse to come by, let alone a chance once I have a reason. Just… pretend you're really into sampling the drinks on our menu. Now… what's wrong?”

He meets her gaze, then looks staunchly away. “...you're very… attentive in-character.” 

“Yes?” She blinks. “...ah, d’you want more of the  _ experience _ ? I didn't think you'd be comfortable with that, but…” She tilts her head and he knows what voice she's going to use before she speaks. “Master, are you pleased with what I've made for you? I've been thinking about you, even if I couldn't be here.” And then her expression takes on a touch more wickedness. “...now that I'm here, would you like coffee? Cake? Or… me?”

His mouth twists down sharply at the sugar-sweet voice, and his eyes dart around the room to see who might be looking, drawn in by their voices. “Stop -- they're going to think--”

They're going to think he's just a customer. Some creep vying for a cute girl’s attention. 

Maybe that's what he is, after all.

She frowns, but does not continue the act. “Babe, don't take this the wrong way, but you're at a maid café; they're gonna assume you're getting that kind of service anyway. But if the problem isn’t that I'm not using the role with you, what is it?” 

“...nothing.”

“Nothing? Really? Saeran, you've wedged yourself into the corner of the booth, you don't look like you're doing so hot, what's--”

And she is, of course, stopped in her tracks as another waitress comes by and informs Sun-hwa that, “Jang-mi has been requested” with a brief, curious glance at Saeran. 

“...I'll be right back,” Sun-hwa says, and follows the waitress. 

He does  _ not  _ watch her as she goes this time, not wanting to make the pit in his stomach any deeper. He reaches for a packet of sugar for his coffee, but just as he's plucking it from the sugar caddy, he hears her voice again, excited, singsong,  _ fake.  _

He can't help it. He fiddles with the packet as his gaze roams around the café, seeking her out. 

She's at the first table again. 

“I'm honored!” she's saying as she leans in close to the man. They're posing for a picture, both smiling as she holds up double v’s and -- he slips an arm around her waist. 

Saeran rips the packet in half. Sugar spills everywhere. 

He barely registers her pulling away quickly from the man, although when she pushes his arm back to his side, there's a twinge of satisfaction.

“Can I get you anything for that, master?”

He jolts. While he was preoccupied, he's been approached by another waitress. She fixes wide, attentive eyes on him as she waits for his response. He stares blankly at her for a moment, then at the mess of sugar over the table. He returns his gaze to her with effort. “...no.”

She pauses, but her nonplussed moment lasts only seconds, and then she tilts her head with so much enthusiastic attempt at charm that the softly-curling end of her bob bounce, and asks, “well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please don't hesitate to let me--”

“Bathroom.”

“Eh?”

“Where is the bathroom.”

“...around the booths and to the left?” 

He stands abruptly, pushing her aside in his haste. 

“W-wait, do you--”

But he's already hurrying in the direction she indicated. 

When he reaches the bathroom, he pulls open the door without knocking, then shuts and locks it behind him. 

It's even  _ cute  _ in here, but… less so, mercifully. 

Saeran leans against the door, relieved to finally feel alone, no longer in danger of finding someone's eyes on him. 

He just -- just --  _ hates  _ how they look at her. How they talk to her. How easily they eat up this stupid role like they really have any say over her, like she really even  _ cares  _ about them. 

He winds his fingers through his hair, agitated.

And why does she put  _ up  _ with it, is it -- not usually like this? But no, she comes home with complaints if she leaves with any stories at all, so then why--?

There's a quiet knock. 

“...Saeran?”

He stills. She knocks again. 

“Are you in there…?” 

Shit, what's he going to say to her? ‘Sorry I ran out, I just want to be the only one allowed to look at you?’

Still, he unlocks the door and opens it a crack. There she stands, one hand raised as if to knock again, still looking remarkably sweet and tempting in her frilly dress. 

Something twists in his stomach at the thought of her going out there again, and before he realizes what he's doing, he is grabbing her arm and pulling her in. 

“Saera--” But she hasn't even finished her protest before he's pushing her against the door, the hand that grabbed hold of her arm still tightly wrapped around her wrist and the other clutching her shoulder -- and then he kisses her with bruising pressure. 

She gasps into his mouth and he swallows the sound eagerly. 

He clings to her with single-minded purpose. Each time he breaks apart for air, he dives back in with desperation, unwilling to be parted. It's not enough, never enough, especially not now when there are already so many vying for her attention. How can he be sure they won't take her from him? He pours himself into her with all the urgency of a drowning man.

After a moment, Sun-hwa pushes gently against his hands, and he relents, loosening his grip. She does not break the kiss, only winds her arms around him. 

The pressure eases. The kiss turns languid. She noses at him as they overshoot the angle, and while she laughs softly, he whines at the delay that keeps him from her. 

Finally, they draw back and pause, foreheads pressed against each other. Her arms are still wound around him. He is still holding tight to her. 

Sun-hwa is the first to speak, ragged breaths interspersed throughout. She sounds wry -- or she would, if her breathing had been even. “Okay,” she murmurs, “Okay. Saeran, babe… you know how much I love to be kissed senseless, but I'm on the clock and this isn't exactly a romantic area. And -- what happened with the sugar, anyway? It's  _ everywhere _ . I thought something might’ve happened.” 

 

“...no. It’s nothing,” he mutters. “Got distracted watching you.”

 

Her brow furrows, and he feels a twinge of misery that he has to pick which way to discomfit her -- tell the truth and make her realize how pathetic he is for being unable to withstand even an hour without her full attention, or lie when she  _ knows  _ he's lying to her. 

Finally, he speaks. “...I don't like that guy out there.” He jerks his chin in the general direction of the man’s table to indicate who he means. 

“...oh, hell if I remember his name, who -- the one who got the picture?”

Saeran nods. 

“He's… a little pushy, yeah.” And then she gives a soft laugh, seeming to realize the absurdity of staying polite where she is. “Okay, yeah, a  _ lot _ pushy. Didn't buy quite enough to justify calling me over nearly so much.  _ Really  _ supposed to ask before touching me.”

“Why didn't he?”

“Didn't want it to feel so much like a business transaction, I’d wager. Feels less personal if you've got to ask permission.” She rolls her eyes. “Still, as long as he listens to the reprimand, wasn't bad; I've definitely had worse.”

Saeran winces at the thought of what worse might look like.

“Is that the problem? That guy? You don't like how he acts?” Saeran stays silent. “Or… is it that he’s acting that way with  _ me _ ?

He looks away. She brushes a hand through his hair, gently. 

“...we close in 40 minutes, you wanna dip or try to last it out?”

“...mnn. Don't wanna just… go.”

“If it bothers you, I don't want you to have to endure that discomfort just to be sweet to me.” The hand she was petting his hair with slides down to cup the nape of his neck. “But… if you're sure, there's still enough time to order some ice cream. Might be a nice distraction? Or a treat for having to watch that?”

And after a moment, he nods. “...okay.”

“Yeah? Okay. Just remember, you don't…  _ have  _ to stay. If it's bugging you, I’ll wrap up some pastries and meet you at home with them, and--”

But he sets his jaw and winds his arms around her. “No,” he says, set in his resolve. 

“Mmm. Alright. Did you happen to decide on a flavor of ice cream when you were looking at the menu earlier?”

He shakes his head. “Uh-uh.”

“...how much faith d’you have in my ability to make good decisions right now?”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Lots?”

“Oh, good. Now…” She places her hands on his forearms until he gets the cue and lets his arms drop, then she inclined her head to indicate the door. “If you go back to your table, I can pop into the kitchen at the end of the hall and see if Eun-ji's up for making you something this close to closing, and no one in the main room will notice anything’s up.” And then she rolls her eyes. “Except poor Mi-na. She seemed  _ distraught  _ when I passed her.”

He just shrugs. He can't bring himself to be particularly remorseful at the way he snubbed the waitress. 

Sun-hwa huffs even as her lips quirk up. “Yeah, yeah, rude boy, I get it. Okay, go now, or someone's going to come looking for me.”

So, with no small measure of reluctance, he traces his steps back to the dining area and seats himself at his booth again, busying himself with drumming his fingers on the table, and then, when he considers that she may have to clean this up before going home, swiping his hands over the surface of the table until he's scooped up most of the spilled sugar into a little pile. 

Mercifully, it isn't long before Sun-hwa emerges from the kitchen carrying  _ two  _ glasses of ice cream --, and, balanced in the crook of her elbow which he sees as she bends to set these gifts at his table, is an actual bowl of whipped cream, to his delight.

“Strawberry, mint,” she says, placing a spoon beside each one as she points out the respective flavors. 

The strawberry is carefully scooped and decorated to look like a pig, complete with candy ears, and the mint is similarly decorated, looking like a frog with big candy eyes. 

“...you realize all this cuteness is wasted on food,” he says just before he scoops a big chunk of the frog’s head out. 

“Hush and appreciate Jiji’s work,” she scolds. 

“Mmh,” he says, and plucks out one of its chocolate drop eyes. “Delicious.” His voice is flat, more for her sake than because he's genuinely unenthused about the ice cream. 

“Good enough.” She reaches in a familiar motion to smooth down his hair, then hesitates, and moves to mine plucking some fluff from his hair. “...almost out,” she says. “Don't seem to have anyone too keen on lingering past closing, so that should last you about until then, and then you can just hang out as we close.” She gestures to the ice cream. “Though we’ll need those back not too soon after that so we can clean up.” And then her gaze softens and her voice grows quieter. “Love you.”

With that, she's off, and he turns his attention to the ice cream in front of him. 

He hears her still, wrapping up conversations with customers and bidding them warm -- and sometimes regretful -- goodbyes, but he ignores this as best he can, focusing instead on eating. 

He heaps on spoonfuls of whipped cream from the bowl between each bite and eats them down to the last dregs, scraping both glasses clean with audible  _ clinks _ . 

As he finishes, Sun-hwa swoops in and spirits away his empty glasses -- she takes the unfinished omurice, too, once it's clear he's not going to make any more progress on that. 

By the time the last customers finally file out, his table has been cleared off, and he has pulled out his phone to fiddle with under the table. 

It takes a few more minutes after that for her to come by again, during which the front doors are locked and the sign lights as well as some of the lights in the front are switched off. Soon enough, though, Sun-hwa approaches and sets a spray bottle and washcloth down, then leans on his table, arms folded on the surface. “Okay,” she says, “we've gotta clean up and do some prep-work for tomorrow, but nothing big. The other girls are fine if you just wait in here. I gotta wipe off the booth and table, but after that, you can just stay here, if you want.”

He nods, and she pulls away and stands so he can slide out of the booth. 

As he does, she pulls her hair into a ponytail and secures it with a rubber band on her wrist. 

“...cute,” he says as she begins spraying down the table. 

Sun-hwa poses, flouncing so her ponytail bounces. “Why, thank you, how kind of you to say!” She makes quick work of the booth, and soon she bows to him, making a flourishing motion with her hands. “Your table, sir.”

He sticks his tongue out at her. She laughs. 

Before she turns away, he notices something, and asks, “you don't change out of your uniform to clean?”

“Not the front room, so close to closing. We can be seen from the windows.” She makes a face. “Fortunately,  _ we  _ don't have to pay to get these uniforms cleaned.” She plucks at the front of her dress. “But once we move on to the kitchen, we can ditch the dresses.”

He nods, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “You  _ might  _ need to duck under the table and hide if someone sees you and thinks we're still open.”

“Fantastic,” he says dryly, and she laughs as she picks up the spray bottle and moves on to the next table. 

He watches her as she cleans up the next one, somehow fascinated by the focus on her face even for this simple task, right up until another waitress emerges from the front with her own cleaning supplies in hand, apparently having just finished the tables closest to the entrance. He's too self-conscious to continue, so he returns to fiddling with his phone. 

They start to talk as they work, idle chatter about customers and mishaps of the day. Apparently, someone spilled tea all over one of the booths before he got there, and there's still traces of it in the seat, and Mi-na -- damn, he didn't realize it was the same waitress as before, he needs to step up his game -- got a  _ very  _ indecisive customer. 

“He'd have gone to your section if not for…” Mi-na trails off, sounding rueful. 

Sun-hwa is not the least bit apologetic. “Sorry!” Her voice is almost singsong. 

After a few minutes of this, they've both made it across the room, and Sun-hwa straightens with a groan. “Well… shall we see how bad the kitchen’s gotten?”

She extends her hand to the other woman, but glances behind her to wink at Saeran before leaving. Mi-na looks back as well, and seems to flush faintly. 

They're gone before Saeran can wonder at this. 

He glances back at his phone. The messenger is as active as always. …and he has a message from his brother. 

_ ‘How's it going so far? Good luck!!’ _ And then a string of enthusiastic emojis. 

Saeran almost rolls his eyes. He's close to not answering, but… ‘ _ Fine,’  _ he sends back. 

Almost immediately, there is a response: a flood of cheering emojis. 

Saeran really does roll his eyes this time, and he pushes his phone away. It vibrates with yet more emojis, and what looks like encouraging advice. He’ll… look later. 

So he sits and twiddles his thumbs. Eventually, he picks up his phone again and starts scrolling through the most recent chatrooms, but doesn't feel invested enough to actually contribute to the conversation -- though when Yoosung notices him lurking and says hello, Saeran sends back the waving emoji Seven made for him and the chat continues, no pressure for him to join beyond that.

They're… used to this sort of behavior from him. He's fortunate for that.

Is she almost out…? 

He can hear voices from the kitchen, along with faint clattering noises. ...is he expected to stay here, or is that just for his convenience. Would she be unhappy if he wandered over to see if she needs help…?

But even if she's not unhappy, the other waitresses might be. He’s not supposed to be here after all. 

But then, if he doesn't go to offer a hand, maybe she'll think he's lazy, unwilling to help, and --

“Babe, you ready to go?”

And there she is, a vision of loveliness in denim jeans and a ribbed sweater, holding a paper bag in one hand. “You okay?”

“--yeah. I'm fine. Just… got lost in thought. Leaving?” 

She nods, then hoists the bag up. “Jiji gave me some cake to take home. Very sweet. I think you'll like them, too.”

As she speaks, the other waitress, the hostess, and two other women he hadn't seen before -- or else, that he hadn't taken the time to notice -- emerge from the hallway, all out of uniform and dressed in casual clothes. 

The hostess is the last to come out, switching the lights off behind her. The one he  _ thinks  _ Mi-na is engaged in conversation with one of the unknown women, and the other, remarkably tall even when hunched in discomfort, waves at Sun-hwa and bids her goodnight and a happy birthday in a soft voice. 

“Night, Jiji!” Mi-na and the other woman chorus enthusiastic ‘happy birthday’s, and the hostess nods as she echoes this. 

Sun-hwa calls back a goodnight, then holds out her free hand to Saeran as he stands. “You ready?”

He takes hold of her hand as an answer. 

Eun-ji, Mi-na, and the other woman have already left by the time they reach the doors, and the hostess switches off the last of the lights as they push past the doors. 

The hostess locks up and nods to the pair of them before heading in the opposite direction. 

Saeran watches her go, and remarks, “...I’m not sure she likes me.”

“Mmh?” Sun-hwa follows his gaze. “Ha-neul? Well, you've only just met; she tends to reserve judgment until she has a longer exposure to someone. I think it took… about a week’s worth of shifts together before she decided she'd warmed up to me? But it can be hard to tell, yeah.”

“So… she might hate me, but…”

“Buuuuut you'd have no way of knowing, yeah,” she finishes. “One of the perks of working in the business: you get real good at faking how you feel towards someone.”

He nods, but something bothers him about that. “You don't… do that with me, do you…?” He keeps his eyes away from hers, feigning interest in the street, the sky, the buildings, but avoiding glancing over to see her expression. 

“Well, when we met? When we were living in a cult? Yeah, I did. But you know that.” He winces at the memory, but nods; that had not been a… pleasant discovery, nor did he enjoy the resulting conversation -- he'd assumed her interest in him was genuine, before that.  _ As genuine as his interest had been _ . But, after time, detox, therapy, and long, long conversations, they were able to start over, on equal ground, and the interest she has now  _ is  _ genuine. 

He hopes. 

“Now, though?” She turns around so that she's walking backwards, facing him. She regards him for a moment, meeting his gaze. “No. I love you.” And his heart stutters pleasantly. She continues, “I  _ trust  _ you. I don't have any reason to fake being happy with you. If I took issue with something you did, I would tell you honestly, because I believe that you would be willing to listen, and that you love me too, and that we can  _ work out _ problems we come across. I don't do that with customers. Frankly speaking, I don't care about any customers enough to even begin to  _ want  _ to do that.”

He's not sure how to put what he feels into words, so he just nods, face flushed. But there's still something troubling him, and after a moment, he says, “...I didn't like watching you flirt with other people.”

“I… yeah. Okay. I understand why you would feel that way,” she says. “I don't think I would be thrilled to watch you flirt with other people, either, even if I knew it was for a job. This job is… well, I have fun more often than not, and I do get a  _ lot  _ of ruined desserts and I  _ love  _ that part, but at the end of the day, it's a job, and I'm acting the way I need to to get paid.  _ You _ don't pay me, and I stick around anyway because I care about you and I genuinely enjoy your company. But… I understand.” She stops walking, and reaches for his hand. “You don't have to come during work hours again if you don't want to. I was happy to see you, but I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, and I don't want you to feel anything like that.”

After a long moment, he squeezes her hand. “...Thanks,” he says softly. “I know it's just an act. I just… worry. That you stick around because you think you have to. That I'm keeping you here when you're not happy. ...it's not the first time I've done it.” His voice has dwindled to a whisper by the end of it. 

“Hey… Saeran, babe, I  _ love  _ you.” She offers him a sympathetic smile. “We went through a lot of shit to get here, but now that we have, you'd better believe that I’m gonna fight tooth-and-nail to stay here,  _ with you _ .”

And it's with a slow-blooming blossom of warmth that he realizes -- he does. He does believe her. 

He tugs on her hand, and they walk side-by-side once more. 

“...sorry that I did this. Made you worry on your birthday.”

“Don't be. Any day I get to spend time with you is a good day in my books, and I am always down to remind you how much I love you.”

His heart feels so full that for a moment, it’s hard to breathe. “I love you,” he murmurs. After a pause, he adds, “I… don't think I'd like sitting in the café again, but… can I… walk you home tomorrow?”

“Of course! I'd love that.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. 

“I could come in while you're cleaning up. Help, if you need it. And… see you in that outfit. It was cute,” he says. “You were cute.”

“Yeah?” And then she grins. “Y’know, it may be an act, but…If you're  _ into that _ , I'm willing to put on an act like that just for you, but it'd be, ah… different. I'll let you get away with a lot more than I'd allow at work.”

“No--” And his face flushes. “Well, maybe, but--” He pouts. “...what if I say yes?”

“Babe, you  _ wound  _ me.” She splays a hand over her chest. “As if I'd make an offer I'm not willing to follow up on. If you say you're interested, I'll make it happen. ...you'd be the only person to, well -- get that far with the act. Might… help with alleviating the jealousy.”

And  _ that _ , at least, has its appeal -- although the fact that she's offering eases his mind somewhat already.

“Hmm,” he says anyway, contemplative. Maybe he'll take her up on that.

“If it makes you think of the café too much, no pressure. Whatever's good for you. It's a standing offer, though!” 

He narrows his eyes at her. “ _ Hmm, _ ” he says again, this time with emphasis, to really get across the idea he is trying to convey -- the idea  _ does  _ have some appeal. 

She laughs, and then something seems to occur to her. “Hey,” she says, “didn't you order something online? Something lacy and elegant, right? You seemed pretty jazzed about it when you mentioned it.”

He frowns. “It got delayed. Might not be here till next week.”

She clicks her tongue. “Aw, that's a shame. But it'll get here eventually, and you'll look amazing in it, and that's what matters.”

He preens. 

“We are,” she says, “a cute couple.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. And they don't need any roles to play to prove it. “...hey.” 

“Mmm?”

“I think I could start to like visiting you at work if, ah… I can borrow you on your breaks.”

“Borrow me for what -- to make out like earlier?”

He shrugs languidly. “You said it, not me.”

She scoffs, but bumps her shoulder against his fondly. “Yeah,” she says. “Sure.”

“Seriously?”

“Why not?”

“Hell yes,” he whispers. He imagines walking into the dining area after spending one of her breaks with her -- they must give her more time than what he was able to steal today in the bathroom, right? -- still knowing that eyes will turn to her, want her, but he's the only one she lets hold her. The thought is sweet. 

“You wanna try to look less smug there, babe?” Her voice is amused. 

“No.” Every single customer in there can suck it. 

And she laughs. 

“Oh…” He says, “I wasn't sure if you'd have eaten or not, but I have kimchi at home for you.” Technically, Yoosung did him the kindness of making it with him mother and then brought it to him, but regardless of who made it, it's sitting in the fridge at home right now, and it  _ is  _ meant for her. She hums happily at this news, and he continues. “I… thought maybe we could watch some horror movies? Or maybe more of ‘The Moon Embracing the Sun,’ if that's what you're feeling?”

“Awww, babe, you spoil me. Movie nights are the cure to all that ails. Think I'm in the mood for some romance, after today.” She runs her thumb affectionately over the back of his hand, then tugs it lightly to get his attention. When he looks at her, he flushes at the open warmth on her face. “Thank you for this. All of this. It's been a good birthday.”

He has to look away bashfully. “I've barely done anything,” he mutters, though her words still make his heart thud at the sincerity. 

“You've done more than enough. I'm happy to know you care about me.”

And now he's sure he's blushing bright red, a match to his hair. “Well… I love you.” He ducks his head. “I… hope I make it clear, always, how much I do.” Saying the words, being this open, is still difficult sometimes, but they're words she deserves to hear. 

“Saeran…” She stops, pulling on his hand again to urge him to follow. She brushes some hair from his eyes, movements tender as she slides her hands down to cup his face, then leans closer and kisses him. “I love you,” she murmurs. 

And he lets himself bask in the truth of these words.

**Author's Note:**

> i decided that sun-hwa's birthday would be november 21st, and only remembered that days before. whoops. shoutout to niku for letting me borrow mi-na and maddy for letting me borrow eun-ji.  
> this is technically set after the events of 'an act of kindness,' but, y'know, hopefully this is clear enough as a standalone fic.  
> also my sister is a budding k-drama enthusiast and recommended 'the moon embracing the sun' and just from the first description of it i laughed -- brothers falling in love with the same girl may not be relevant here, but to most saeran fics? well...


End file.
